


Anamnesis

by MadameMiz



Category: Phineas and Ferb
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-04-09
Updated: 2014-04-09
Packaged: 2018-01-18 18:11:49
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 943
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1437805
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MadameMiz/pseuds/MadameMiz
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Perry the Platyborg reflects on himself and his involvement with the empire he helped create. Post-movie.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Anamnesis

**Author's Note:**

> an·am·ne·sis - noun: the recollection or remembrance of the past; reminiscence

In the dim light of the early morning, you look down through your mismatched eyes at your equally unmatched hands and reflect on the events of the past few weeks. It’s just past 6 o’clock on the sixteenth day of your freedom, and, like most of the nights previous, your sleep had been restless at best. You shift and see Ferb sleeping to your right, curled up and warm, and you smile at the sight. Across the room, to your left, Phineas is visibly dreaming—limbs twitching, the corner of his mouth quirking up. They, at least, are adjusting better. The rest of the house seems to still be slumbering, and you leave your spot on the mattress to wander. There is no warmth in the indention you leave behind.

The disquieting sound of your uneven footsteps—clank, plip, clank, plip— fills your ears as you move down the hall, and you cringe at your inability to be stealthy.

Your mind starts to drift, as it has every morning prior, and you let it. You think back to the first day, when you had been too relieved, too overjoyed to care about anything except spending as much time with your family as possible. The end of the first night had found you sandwiched between Phineas and Ferb, knowing that the sharp angles of your modified body probably poked uncomfortably into their wiry frames, and not caring because you’d all been so happy.

A much less pleasant memory of a few nights later comes to mind next, of falling asleep in the same position and waking up moments away from attacking Phineas in a nightmare-induced frenzy. It took all of your restraint to hide your confusion and betrayal when faced with the equally confused and horrified looks in their eyes, because of course they should understand, they know what you’ve been through—except they don’t. You have to remind yourself constantly. They don’t, and if you have it your way, they never will. You had retreated, wall-eyed and on all fours, they don’t know, and they never will repeating in your mind like a prayer. They give you a bit of space after that.

As you climb down the last of the stairs, you hear a familiar beep originating from who-knows-where and know you’re being summoned; you wonder what they could possibly want from you now. It isn’t the first time you’ve heard the sound since you’ve returned, but you’re just not ready to face that yet. You ignore it as you walk on.

You pass the TV and bits and pieces of information from outside jump to the forefront of your mind, despite how hard you try to ignore that too. An excited comment from Linda, hand-in-hand with a newly returned Lawrence; a cool remark from Candace; a ponderous remark from one of the boys, all pointing toward fast changes taking place in the Tri-State area. Nobody quite knows what to do with their new-found freedom just yet, but you catch whispers of plans in the works. You know Candace and the neighborhood children have their Resistance, and you honestly feel that they can handle it. They’re certainly the best qualified for it. On TV, you hear nothing but cautiously excited cheers from reporters whose eyes look simultaneously crazed and lost. They speak of nothing but the downfall of a horrible dictator and the beginning of a new, better era.

(Don’t think about him, don’t think about him, don’t think about him.)

Glancing down, you see your fur-covered hand and think of your counterpart from the other dimension. What’s left of your gut churns with anxiety and jealousy in equal measure, and you feel ashamed for it. You know he can handle himself. You know his nemesis lacks the cruel, primal spark that yours seemed so full of. You know this, and you bitterly wonder to yourself how the other you kept it under control; you wonder what you could have done differently. Just like every other time this line of thought crosses your mind, you forcefully push it aside, deciding it doesn’t matter, that there’s no need to dwell on it anymore. (You always do anyway.)

You pause in the threshold of the kitchen, catching your distorted reflection staring back at you off the oven door. You don’t remember how he changed you. You don’t remember much at all after being captured, and what you do remember feels more like a memory of an already hazy dream. As guilty as it makes you feel, you’re immeasurably grateful for it. You’ve seen firsthand the world you unwillingly helped create, and the aftermath alone is nearly too much to handle. You don’t want to know all of the terrible things you must have done, and you once again feel thankful that your family doesn’t know.

A noise from above catches your attention, and you realize you don’t have long now. Someone will be down any minute, most likely one of the boys. It’s a bit earlier than usual, but you’ll be glad for the distraction. You’re still not quite used to having your head to yourself again, and you find yourself lost in its unfamiliar territory more often than you’d care to admit.

You move down to all fours and make your way over to your food dish just in time to cross paths with the boys as they stampede, impressively quiet, down the stairs and into the kitchen.

A grin like you haven’t seen in ages splits Phineas’ face. “Oh, there you are Perry!”

You chatter in response, and, for a moment at least, feel a bit more at ease with the world.

**Author's Note:**

> This was my first fanfic, yikes.


End file.
